


Harness Havoc

by MothTale



Series: Shingeki no Shenanigans [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Funny, Gen, Harness mishaps, Jean being an idiot, One Shot, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothTale/pseuds/MothTale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirstein ends up in an embarrassing position and has to rely on his friends to get him out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harness Havoc

**Author's Note:**

> Again, something stupid I wrote quickly based on an idea my sister had. Enjoy!

“Did you guys hear that?” Marco raised his head, laying down his book on the pillow.  
“Hear what?” murmured Jean, propping himself up and leaning over the edge of his bunk.  
“Sounds like…footsteps.”  
“It’s Sasha,” Eren answered, from the floor near the door.  
“…the hell is she running for?”  
“Wait, what day is it?” asked Marco, starting up from his bed and almost hitting his head on Jean’s bunk.  
“Wednesday. Why?” Reiner said with a frown.  
Connie jumped up. “Meat! They’re serving meat today.”  
The sound which followed was like a cat caught in a laundry bag, as every person in the room tried to scramble to their feet all at once.  
Marco was half-way across the room when he heard a peculiar sound. It sounded like a bird being turned inside out.  
“Jean?”  
“I’m stuck.” The words were higher pitched than usual. “I- I can’t feel my crotch.”  
Jean, who had been too lazy to remove his harness completely and had merely loosened it, had gotten himself caught on the bedpost. His attempt to jump down had gone terribly, terribly wrong. All of Jean’s weight rested on the thigh straps. If the look on Jean’s face was anything to go by, it was acutely unpleasant.  
“Marco. Help.”  
Marco spun round and tried to find the strap to unhook it.  
“What was that sound? Did something happen?”  
“Oh god guys, you gotta see this. This is gold.”  
“Can someone help me with this?” Marco pleaded.  
“Hurry the hell up before I lose a leg or something worse.”  
“Hehe, hope you weren’t planning a family Kirstein.”  
“Quiet Eren,” hissed Marco, trying to lift Jean to take the weight off the thigh straps.  
“Marco, what the hell are you trying to do?”  
“I’m trying to help you idiot, stop squirming.”  
“I’m losing the frigging circulation to my legs and you’re trying to cop a feel.”  
“If his voice goes any higher it’s going to break the glass,” sniggered Reiner.  
“Don’t be stupid Jean, I’m trying to-“  
“He’s trying to save your balls horseface.”  
“Here, I’ll help.” Armin pushed past the crowd laughing in the doorway, and walked straight into one of Jean’s feet as it flailed.  
“Y-you just kicked Armin! Why would you do that?”  
“I couldn’t see him could I? Hurry up and help me!”  
Armin reeled backwards, clutching his nose.  
“No no, it’s fine. I don’t think I’m bleeding…”  
“So help me already!”  
“I think I just heard the glass crack.”  
“Shut up!”  
“Jean, calm down. Ugh, Bertoldt, please help. You can reach where the strap is caught. I’ve got my hands full here.”  
“Don’t I friggin know it.”  
When Marco said his name Bertoldt jumped, looking at the ensnared Jean and his struggling freckled preserver with a measure of reluctance.  
“W-what do you want me to do?”  
“Could you, I don’t know – stop wriggling Jean, you’re making it worse! – reach up and unhook the strap?”  
Bertoldt stepped gingerly up to the trapped cadet.  
“Hurry it up Bertoldt. What the hell are you doing?”  
“Ah, sorry.”  
Bertoldt reached up easily and worked to release the strap.  
“I can’t seem to…It’s stuck.”  
“I got it. Hang on, I’ll just lift-“  
“Woah, Marco, watch it!”  
“Sorry. Reiner, can you lend a hand?”  
Reiner smirked and folded his arms across his chest. “Ok. I guess this thing has gone on long enough. Funny as it was.”  
“You’re evil,” Jean squeaked, glowering at him.  
Reiner just carried on smirking and walked on in across the room. He pulled Bertoldt aside, brushed Armin away and ushered for Marco to move back. He wrapped his arms around Jean’s legs, eliciting a pained squawk of protest, and pushed him upwards.  
“Ohmygodohmygod.”  
“It’s still stuck.”  
“Too frigging right it’s stuck!”  
“Ok, new plan. Marco, you get up there and see if you can get it from the other side.”  
“Got it.”  
Somewhat awkwardly Marco managed to haul himself up onto the bunk.  
“And don’t you get stuck too, because I’m leaving you there if you do.”  
Marco smiled and crawled across the bed to the post. He grabbed a hold of the strap, trying to dig his fingernails underneath it. He nodded to Reiner.  
“Oh god not agaiiiii-“  
“Got it!”  
Jean made a little high-pitched noise somewhere between joy and immense pain. Reiner dropped him on the floor.  
“Oh dear god that feels great.”  
“Just you wait for the pins and needles to kick in.”  
There was a heavy thud as Marco dropped down from the bunk, managing to remain unsnagged.  
“Thanks a lot Reiner.”  
“Hey, why are you the one thanking me? The living embodiment of grace right there should be the one licking my boots.”  
“For what? You practically cracked my ribs.”  
“I’m sorry, was that a thank you? Or do you want me to put you back?”  
“Oh most benevolent Reiner, thank you for condescending to help me despite my unworthiness, oh great one.”  
“Wow, you can practically taste the sarcasm.”  
“Speaking of which, food! We’re missing it.” Marco tugged Jean onto his feet.  
“Aiiie, ok. Pins and needles setting in now.”  
“Walk it off.”

In the mess hall Jean found himself the recipient of several despairing glances. Sasha sat grinning, helping herself to her third portion of stew, the last portion. She waved at the boys.  
“Thought you didn’t want any,” she said with a laugh. Eren, who had run on ahead when Reiner and Bertoldt had stepped in to help, was clutching a steaming bowl, just handed to him by Mikasa. As the others watched, he speared a small chunk of meat and swallowed it, grinning at them. Marco sighed, his shoulders sagging.  
“Well, maybe next time.”  
“Not my fault I got caught on the bedpost,” muttered Jean, sounding just a little bit ashamed of himself.  
“Kirstein, next time we have combat practice…”  
“What?”  
“Just an advance warning,” Reiner patted Jean’s shoulders, digging in his nails just a bit.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Marco said, nudging his arm and pulling him away from Reiner slightly. “How are the pins and needles?”  
“Horrible. Can’t you tell by the hobble?”  
Marco smiled. “Well, we might as well see what’s left to eat.”  
“Hey, stop tugging me. My feet feel like they’re on fire.”  
“Best cure is to keep moving, or this...” and with that Marco stepped, very slowly and very deliberately, on Jean’s foot. “There, is that any better?”  
Jean hissed. “No! Why would that be better? You’re making it a thousand times worse.”  
“Oh, well give it a minute for the blood to circulate…” he said, stamping on the other foot.  
“Marco, are you perhaps angry with me?”  
Marco looked at him and blinked. “Really? Is that what you think?”  
“Why the hell else would you be trying to crush my feet?”  
Marco smiled again, more sweetly this time and moved his weight about a bit, onto Jean’s toes. The pins and needles were mostly gone, replaced by the almost equally painful sensation of someone standing on his toes.  
“There,” Marco jumped backwards and Jean breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, food. I could pretty much eat a horse right now,” he said, grinning less than angelically and dragging Jean across the room.


End file.
